


Sunlight: The Return

by EdwardNotSoLittle



Series: Sunlight [3]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Returning Home, Survivor Guilt, mentions of canabalism, mentions of character deaths, recovering from illnesses, shorts of Francis and Jopson's life with the Inuit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-09-26 23:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20397577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardNotSoLittle/pseuds/EdwardNotSoLittle
Summary: I recommend readingChapter 5of Sunlight before you tackle this if you want to understand everything. - https://archiveofourown.org/works/19888900/chapters/47506372Sunlight: ReturnSummery: Mostly things that involved Crozier and Jopson's life with the Netsilik people, the return to England with James Ross, and the initial struggle to adjust from Jopson's mental instability, the court marshal. Basically things that happened just before the first scene and some more in depth writing or views into certain flashbacks from the main story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I had to make the retired surgeon up but still this is fanfiction. Sue me. 
> 
> No please really don't sue me I'm broker than the boys were by... I'm not going to finish that. 
> 
> I'm just broke okay. Really. Really broke.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**~ November 14th, 1850 ~**

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Enterprise had made port last week, and if there was one thing Sir James Clark Ross was certain of, it would be how he'd give his knighthood away in a heartbeat if it meant he could take away his old friend's pain.

Poor Jopson had been struck with scurvy again half-way through the journey home, and it had come tearing through his malnourished body with a vengeance.

According to Francis, they had never been able to completely get him to full recovery from the sickness. The diet of the Eskimos wasn't the greatest at fighting scurvy, especially if there were times the game had been scarce.

With Jopson grasped tightly within scurvy's jaws, the two captains unanimously agreed that they should lay low for a while. It was for this reason Francis couldn't just waltz into the hospital, people thought the whole expedition had perished, the sight of him alone would start gossip like cannon fire.

He stood silently on his doorstep watching with a heavy heart as Francis walked to the other side of the coach he had sent to retrieve the two men from a close friend, a retired Navy surgeon who owed him a favor.

Shortly after they made port he'd hurried to the old man's house, giving him a very brief explanation of the two soul survivors of Sir John Franklin's Expedition, and the situation they found themselves in.

Ross really couldn't blame the man for staring at him like he was mad for even thinking about hiding such information from the council, but he did manage to persuade him when he explained poor Jopson's fierce battle with scurvy, and that the disease had come back to the young lieutenant with a wrathful ire during their return voyage.

The retired surgeon in question, had lost his lover at sea to scurvy on his last venture to the Arctic, with the man's death had also come the swift end of the surgeon's Navy life, he refused to go to sea again and chose to resign.

James knew the man would keep their secret, for now, he urged that they not wait too long less James want to be faced with potentially criminal charges for keeping information from the Admiralty. However since then, Francis and Jopson had been staying with his friend while the latter healed or at least was well enough to be without a medical professional's watchful eye.

The Irish captain opened the door of the coach where Jopson was sitting or more slumped against the frame. His eyes were closed, body still suffering small tremors, and a blanket had been wrapped around him. His friend reached into the coach to pull him out and Jopson leaned on him heavily, he could see Francis's lips moving, likely uttering reassurances.

Jopson seemed to flinch slightly and his face turned to look at his captain when he said something that must have caught his attention.

He could see the young man's mouth move, replying to whatever he said in a hushed whisper.

"Do you think you can walk lad?" James could hear his friend when his voice had gone from a private whisper to normal toned.

The former steward made no response for quite some time before giving the slightest shake of his head which was hard to spot with his trembling form.

"Alright, come here then, hm?"

It wasn't but a few moments later that James watched his old friend lift the young man's frail body into his arms, he observed how Francis made sure to slide his handless arm beneath Jopson's knees first, having to readjust his grip a couple times.

Francis closed the coach door with his side before turning to face the steps to his house, offering him a weak smile when he spotted his silent presence.

Young Thomas's head was resting against the captain's shoulder, his eyes staring blankly ahead not focused on anything in particular. In fact, James could see that his pupils were huge… dilated in a foggy haze as he trembled slightly against his friend’s chest. 

Both he and Ann agreed that the two men could stay here as long as they needed, and he insisted with enough emphasis, he hoped, that they should stay until the court marshal was dealt with.

Francis had surprisingly agreed without a single argument.

"Are you sure that he's hardy enough Francis? He doesn't look too good."

The Irishman nodded adjusting the grasp he had on his lieutenant. As he got closer, James was able to see spots where clumps of Jopson's hair had fallen out at some point in the wake of scurvy's wrath, but there was already black fuzz from new hair growing in it's place.

"Aye, Mr Gideon just gave him something to help him rest easy earlier." 

James nodded silently as he opened the door to his home stepping aside to let his friend enter. 

“Sir… is that… do.. is that Sir James… why is he here..?” the young man mumbled through his disorientation. 

Francis scoffed, humorously, “Where else would he be lad?” 

“… t-the Antarctic, Sir.” 

James couldn’t help but laugh softly at the claim and gave the young man a pat on the shoulder, “Well, yes, but I don’t live there sailor.” 

“Oh good heavens!” came the abrupt shrill cry of his wife and James winced, getting ready for her mother-henning to come stampeding into the air. 

With a smile he turned to face her where she stood at the end of the hallway where they had just come from, “Dearest, I trust you remember Francis?” 

She just stared at the two men, swallowing emotion several times at the mere sight of the two before nodding in response. “Yes, yes of course. You must forgive me Francis, I just wasn’t expecting… well...” 

Francis nodded his reassurance, “Not to worry Ann, there be no judgments on our part. I know we look quite the sight. This is-” 

Ann shook her head quickly, “Please, Francis introductions can wait for the time being, let us get him situated first. James why aren’t you helping him with that man?” she scolded with a glower.

The Irishman chuckled softly as he followed her leaving James floundering for words. 

“I.. I offered but-argh..” he grumbled following the trio.


	2. First Steps to Recovery

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

** \- October 30th, 1848 -**

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Ice.. i-ice and blood… blood.. bones… L-Le Vescante… C-Chambers.. hurt…”

As he and Lady Silence stepped foot into the small Esquimaux village, Francis felt very unsure by the way they all stared at him as he pulled the _Kamutik_ with Jopson struggling against the sinewy cords that kept him secure upon it, sobbing and crying hysterically in his delirium, whether they would help them or not.

Out of an igloo a man appeared clad in a grey sealskin parka and he looked hesitant as they approached.

Silence turned to him and held up a hand for him to stay where he was so he stopped immediately and he watched a she made her way over to the man who had come from the igloo to stare with the rest of the people who eyed them warily.

The two disappeared inside the snow house for quite some time without emerging and Francis noticed how all the other natives continued to stare, curiously, some fearfully.

As the minutes continued to go by the rest of the Esquimaux people went back to their business and ignored them for the most part, and Crozier left without eyes and only the sounds of mumbled Inuktitut words among the people, became hyper-aware of poor Thomas’s distress.

“I-I want to live… I want… s-sisters…”

He turned back to the sled and moved around to kneel beside it again, hoping to get the young man to calm down at least a little as to not spook the people of whom their survival depended on at this point.

“Ed… Edward… will come back… h-he promised.. he promised…”

“Lieutenant Jopson.” he addressed quietly but the young man shook his head, causing the knotted ends of the makeshift blindfold to whip about with his hair as he continued to cry.

“Please don’t… don’t hurt me... I-I’ll do whatever you want!”

He tried to hush him softly with a gentle noise resting his hand upon his scruff covered jaw he winced when he felt the warm or lukewarm wetness of blood from the disease the hair disguised.

“Thomas. It’s your captain… these people will not harm either us. I have hopes that they will help us.”

Three shadows were cast over them and Crozier looked up to see Lady Silence with the man from earlier, he had a feeling this was their leader. There was another person, a middle aged woman who offered him a sympathetic expression.

He stood, turning to face the three with his full attention and did his best to ignore Jopson’s fevered ramblings.

Crozier gave him a friendly smile that came off more nervous than anything, **_“Ilannâk.”_**

The man though he appeared wary motioned to himself and spoke “Amaqjuaq.”

Nodding he held out his hand in offer for the man to shake. “Aglooka.”

He was relieved when the man didn’t stare at his hand, instead he took it firmly and shook his hand. 

Clearly the people had encountered white men before, or at least he had because he understood it was a form of greeting.

Amaqjuaq moved around him to peer down at Jopson who had all but gone still besides the terrified trembles that controlled his body, but Crozier could tell he was listening as they spoke by the way his jaw was set and how he held his body.

He licked his chapped lips nervously as he gestured towards himself and nodded.**_“Tukisiak Inuttut.”_**

The small tribe leader still knelt beside Jopson, moved dark hair out of his face to run a fur mitten-ed hand over the cloth covering his eyes. He pulled it up slightly getting a brief glance at pale sea-glass eyes that were surrounded by whites that were tinted slightly yellow.

**_“Kuvitsaluttuk.”_** he muttered lowering the makeshift blindfold again 

Francis stared quietly, trying to decipher the words, he recognized something in there that had to do with eyes. 

This would be easier with Thomas Blanky or Dr Alexander McDonald. 

**_“Illuijuk...”_** he offered hoping he understood correctly.

At his response the Inuit man bent down again to lift the blindfold slightly, just enough to let Jopson’s eyes meet the sun’s rays causing them to start to water again and when the lad whined he lowered it again.

Standing again to focus on him he nodded his head in agreement before gesturing towards the younger man. **_“Kanimak.”_**

Crozier turned to to Amaqjuaq and nodded **_“Âha. Kanimajuk.”_** I would be very grateful if you could help us. He is very sick.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After talking with Lady Silence's people, or as he now knew her, Silna, their chief Amaqjuaq decided to allow them refuge for now.

He said they could stay the winter and decide where they want to go in the spring, but for now they would help him try to get Thomas well.

Silna had been instructed to take Jopson to the home of a woman they called Arnaaluk, it was she who apparently would be helping him care for his lieutenant as she had some sort of natural medicinal knowledge, she had taught Silna what she knew.

Right now as he knelt beside the poor man he felt helpless. He was so sick it was unbearable to sit here and bare witness yet alone handle the man.

Upon being unlashed from the _Kamutik_ Jopson had started to fight like a bat out of hell, he was weak, but he was terrified and he was fighting for his life with whatever he had left. He nearly took out the eye of the young Esquimaux who helped move him, luckily he’d bodily got himself in the way instead. 

Now he had a large scratch from jagged broken fingernails on his face, but he did not want Jopson to harm these people. Scared or no, they were their chance for survival.

Don’t bite the hand feeds you.

“No... no.. stop...” the boy begged tearfully tugging against his hold as he cinched the leathery strip of sinew cord around his frail wrists, those hands trembled helplessly, and he wiggled and squirmed beneath him as he straddled his hips with his own weight.

“Shh. It’s okay son.” he assured as he finished tying a small bowline knot which he anchored to a blunted knife jammed into the ice far enough he knew it wouldn’t move.

"Argh... no... n-no please... I... I don't want to die.. _hic!_\- please..." the fevered young man whimpered tearfully, his blindfolded head lifting off the furs he lay upon in attempts to look around.

Sighing he lifted himself from the smaller, sickness ravaged body and pulled the basin of ice melt and the rag he’d been given out of it’s murky surface.

With a grunt he settled himself beside the despairing soul and hushed him again.

"Shh... Jopson it's alright, lad." Crozier hushed wringing out excess water from the rag into the basin.

His poor lieutenant was writhing with pain and delirium, the scurvy's death inducing maw had been squeezing any remaining life out of his friend without any mercy.

"E-Edward... it hurts... " the poor boy sobbed, blood trickling down his forehead from the fierce crown of thorns upon his hairline.

"Aye, I know it does."

He dabbed the rag against the cracked broken skin, wiping the trail of crimson away and the young man let out a shrill cry of alarm.

“Thomas… you’re okay. You’re safe.”

"M-My... _hic!_\- own... own Be...loved, who hast.. _hic!_ \- lifted ... m-me..."

That beautifully perfect and tragic poem. Something he'd been reciting like a broken record.

"E-Edward... c-come back… I-I love you! Don't leave me alone... Plea.. _hic!_\- ease..."

Francis was stunned to absolute silence.

_'Were they...?'_

He shook his head, Jopson was delirious he might not understand what he’s saying.

"E-Edward... please... I-I'm scared... _hic!_ \- I-I want... I want you to... _hic!_ Kill me... it.. it hurts... m-my heart.. it.. _hic!_ \- it hurts…"

Francis sat there, his hands trembled as he remembered that awful day James had requested the very thing from him as well.

He turned his attention to the young man.

"Oh Thomas, no lad, of that I will not do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** EDITED 10/18/19**
> 
> I HAD TO RE-WRITE THIS!!! So this has been edited. 
> 
> As usual I used the Labrador Dictionary because Nunavut dialogue is like impossible to research on. So if anyone is of native decent here please, please do not be afraid to shoot me a message. Help would be so appreciated ;_; this nags at me but it I really love this spin off. I did not anticipate what I was getting myself into. ;-;
> 
> Ilannâk - (Friend)
> 
> Tukisiak - Understand. 
> 
> Inuttut - Inuit language
> 
> Kuvitsaluttuk - Someone the white of of whose eyes look bad through illness 
> 
> Illuijuk - He is snowblind
> 
> Kanimak - Sick
> 
> Âha - Yes
> 
> Kanimajuk - He is ill
> 
> Kamutik - sled


	3. Chapter 3

**~ October 31st 1848 ~**

It felt like an eternity to Francis that he sat in that tent trying to console poor Thomas, who still apparently believed his life was in immediate danger as he lay there begging and pleading for his life to be spared, too delirious to understand what was going on around him. 

Other than the fact that he couldn’t see and he couldn’t move.

He felt awful, he really did. Here was a young man of whom had been so loyal, dutiful, and thought of him as a safe figure.

When a fur covered figure finally entered the snow house he turned his attention to the door to find an old Esquimaux woman who stared at him curiously before shifting her eyes to the man moaning and squirming upon the floor of her little ice home.

Giving the woman an acknowledging nod he motioned to himself with a nervous smile. **“Atik Aglooka, Ilannâk.”**

The smile wasn’t returned but he had a feeling this was the woman that they called Arnaaluk by the way she immediately moved to kneel beside the two of them and began checking Jopson over.

Upon feeling the woman’s furry mittens on his face Jopson let out a loud cry, immediately sent back into his hysterics as he turned his face away. Arnaaluk pulled her hands back staring in silence before turning her questioning gaze to him.

**“Asu. Unali kinauva?”**

Sparing the young man a sad and somewhat weary glance to his lieutenant his response was soft, **“Una Jopson.”**

**“Suvâ?”** the woman asked, shifting her gaze to the way he’d secured Jopson down to the ground as he continued to carry on.

“He is… ah.. **Aanniajuq… kanimajuk.**”

**“Asu.”**

“Please… please… I wasn’t the one who killed your people… I-I wasn’t! Please let me go...” the younger man begged tearfully tugging against the leathery cord that anchored his hands to the icy floor.

It was clear that the woman didn’t understand the lad’s words but she could read the panic in his voice by it’s tone. Slowly she turned her gaze back to Jopson then shifted it back to him for confirmation. **“Itsinattuk?”**

**“Âha.”** he nodded running his fingers through Jopson’s sweaty hair and shushing him softly.

“Edward… t-the Captain… he’s haunting me… w-what have we… what have we done! W-What have I done!”

Tears gathered and quickly spilled down his own cheeks at the broken words.

“Thomas... Thomas listen to me. I’m here lad, there be no hauntin’s. That thing is gone, Hickey is gone, but I am as real as you are son.”

Something seemed to finally snap in the boy’s delirium because the poor man just started sobbing going into a mantra of repeating his title over and over.

“C-Captain… Cap’n -hic! Ca… Cap’n… Captain… Captain… I-I’m sorry -hic! I-I’m so sorry...”

Heaving a sigh he turned toward the old woman with desperate eyes. **“ÂkKigasuppâ.”**

**“Ikajuqtunga.”** she finally responded after several long moments of silence.

**“Nakurmiik.”**

Arnaaluk began to get to work then pulling back the blankets and beginning to staring at the buttons on Jopson’s navy greatcoat for a second before Crozier reached down and began to unfasten the brass things.

The woman picked up on how to work them rather quickly, but the task took her a little more time than he, not used to such things. 

Already knowing she wanted to see what she had to work with in order to help them, Francis helped her undress the young man, despite the tearful and delirious protests. 

When he shucked the lad’s sweater up that was when he went into another fit sobbing and wriggling under their touches. 

“N-No... no please don’t!” Thomas wept miserably.

“Hush, lad, you are safe. The native people, they will help us. We just need to check your injuries.” 

Once his upper half was exposed, Francis swallowed thickly. With the previous urgency of moving Jopson now gone he was able to take in his poor lieutenant's appearance in its entirety.

He was so, so thin almost skeletal with his sunken breast and stomach, he could see every rib in him and the tops of his hip bones stood like small white bergs in their own sense.

Another weeping wound lay on his chest something he must have sustained within the past weeks, appearing to have been caused by a boat knife. 

The lean, fastidious and physically capable young man he’d always known Jopson to be had quite literally wasted away. Blood dribbled from shafts of the sparse chest hair upon his breast his skin was covered in contusions, dirt, and flecks of blood. 

Arnaaluk rose and moved to the far corner of her small ice home near a makeshift bed of furs. Retrieving a bag she came back over and started to pull out small leather pouches and makeshift containers with various herbs. 

She returned and settled herself onto the floor beside the sick man. After she set the bag of her supplies beside her then turned to spare him a glance before starting to work. 

Palpating about his torso Jopson whined loudly flanks trying to inch away from her prodding hands with a small grunt of effort, his arms straining against the restraints.

The old woman ran gentle fingers across the dark bruises upon his skin courtesy of the advanced stages of scurvy.

After assessing his chest she moved to his stomach which she palpated as well and Jopson groaned softly a couple tears trickling down his face from behind the blindfold. 

**“Niaguppuk.”**

Francis nodded in agreement, “ 

**"Âha. PillikasâlaukKugut.”**

She reached for one of the pouches and pulled out some sort of leaves before turning to Jopson. 

**“Aittak.”**

When Jopson didn’t respond obviously not understanding the words, Crozier relayed the command in English, but the young man merely let out a small sob and turned his head away. 

“Y-You’re going to poison me.”he cried softly. 

Arnaaluk put some of the leaves into her mouth and began to chew them thoroughly before removing them and sparing him a glance before ordering quietly, **“Aittatilauguk.”**

Swallowing nervously he reached his stump down to carefully ease Jopson’s head to face them.

“N-Noo...nngh!” he tried to plead desperately as soon as he felt calloused fingers touching his chin. 

“Shh, easy lad. We’re trying to help.” he tried to console when the poor boy tried to resist as he squeezed at the hollows of his cheeks to in order to force jaws to part. 

As soon as they were able, she pushed the slimy chewed leaves through cracked and bloody lips and covered his mouth with a delicate hand, pushing his head up until she could see his throat spasming as he fought. 

Francis felt sick, this was horrible to witness and those tears oh god they never stopped and he whimpered and whined, soon convulsing.

**“Ek.”** she ordered firmly. 

The herbs must be some sort of medicine that was clear to Francis and not wanting to watch his lieutenant choke to death as it was, for god’s sake not on something that could potentially save his life for that matter, he lowered his good hand to assist.

** _Francis, help me. Help me. Help me out of it.”_ **

Jopson whined in protest as he began to stroke that spasming throat in a way that was so painfully similar… as he’d done once before when he’d euthanised James. 

James. His fierce, wonderful James…

** _”Francis.”_ **

The thought of the man brought tears to his own eyes and he sniffed deeply to try to keep them at bay, “It’s okay… it’s okay…” he repeated more to himself than the young man before them. 

** _”God wants you to live.”_ **

Oh the look in that dying man’s magnificently dark eyes. 

Not so much unlike what was developing in Jopson’s pale green. 

** _”He wants you to live._ **

**“Sunaunâ?”** he asked curiously as he continued massaging with gentle but insistently firm fingers. 

**“UKaujak.”** she replied.

**“Asu.”**

Eventually he finally coaxed the muscles to comply and the leaves finally went down the lad began sobbing hysterically as soon as she let go of him and he began to yank violently at his hands, he actually saw the knife he’d anchored into the floor shift the slightest bit. 

“I-I want to live… I want to live… Edward y-you should have gone back for him! W-Why didn’t you go back for him!” 

It was clear that the young lieutenant wasn’t convinced that he was really there, he needed something to prove to him that he was, in fact, there.

What though?

Then it came to him.

“Jopson. Have I ever told you about the time anyone ever let me ride a cow?”

All at once his lieutenant went completely still and silent. 

“Y-Yes…”

Tears began to leak copiously from behind the makeshift blindfold and with a shaky inhale he took a risk he normally wouldn’t with the boy’s eyes being so sore, maybe they were rested enough that he could actually see something now.

Carefully he eased the blindfold off the lad’s head and the younger man let out a small cry and squeezed watering eyes tightly. 

With gentle care he settled large hands against Jopson’s brow using them to shield the sensitive eyes from the sun, like the rim of the navy hats they both wore once. 

“Shh, it’s alright Thomas. Look at me, lad.” 

Very slowly, and clearly cautious pale sea-colored eyes opened with a squint watering something fierce but they soon widened the slightest bit and his mouth fell open in silent shock. 

“C-Cap... tain…?” came the hushed whisper, as if a voice spoken too loud would make him disappear. 

“Yes. I’m here Thomas.” he affirmed lifting the stub of his hand in hopes the thing would show the lad that they’d both survived the harshness of this place.

“Y-You… h-how they… they said that Hickey’s group...?” he asked letting his eyes slide shut for a few seconds.

“Aye. That thing killed them. Lady Silence found me, I was wounded and she nursed me back to health. I came looking for you.” 

He wasn’t sure if Jopson could understand the entirety of his explanation is his sick state but judging by the lad’s reaction he understood that he was there. 

This reaction was a blubbering mantra of apologies and begging for forgiveness and how hard he tried and how horrible he felt about the men leaving him and such.

“Shh, none of that matters, son. I just need you to calm and let us help you.” 

Jopson just sobbed miserably squeezing his eyes tightly shut and nodded shakily, “M-My eyes hurt…”

“I know, ye've got a nasty case of snowblindness. I’m going to put this back on, that should help some.” 

The lad didn’t protest this time as he slid the fabric back down onto his face. 

“W-Would you tell me the story, sir?” Jopson’s voice came small and hopeful despite the underlying fear and discomfort.

Crozier felt a tear trickle down his craggy cheek as a weak smile forced its way onto his face.

“Aye.” he whispered softly running his fingers tenderly through coal black greasy locks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **“Atik Aglooka, Ilannâk.”** (Name Aglooka. Friend.)  
**“Asu. Unali kinauva?”** (I see. And Who is this.)  
**“Una Jopson.”** (This is Jopson.)  
**“Suvâ?”**  
**Aanniajuq… kanimajuk.”** (He is sick... furious with pain.)  
**“Asu.”** (I see.)  
**“Itsinattuk?”** (fearful person)  
**“Âha.”** (Yes)  
**“ÂkKigasuppâ.”** (Does what is needed to cure him.)  
**“Ikajuqtunga.”** (I will help.)  
**“Nakurmiik.”** (Thank you.)   
**“Niaguppuk.”** (Has hunger pangs)  
**"Âha. PillikasâlaukKugut.”** (Yes. We nearly starved.)   
**“Aittak.”** (Open your mouth)  
**“Aittatilauguk.”** (Make him open his mouth)  
**“Ek.”** (Swallow)  
**“Sunaunâ?”** (What is that?)  
**“UKaujak.”** she replied. (Basically they are edible buds and leaves on an arctic willow, rich in vitamin C (Salix arctica)) 
> 
> **“Asu.”** (I see)


End file.
